Smoke(y) and the Bandit
by AshyLarry
Summary: Tachanka finds himself lost in time and space following the events of The Sodden Spetsnaz Smackdown. Travelling through time and space can have even the most unlikely of people meet. Surely, it was a coincidence to meet Smoke and Bandit in Amsterdam?


Smoke(y) and the Bandit

"hmm… how about that one?"

Smoke paused, crossed his arms and leaned back slightly, "naw mate, can't say I agree".

Bandit groaned, "Oh, never mind then, what do you want to do now?"

Smoke paused, "if none of the window candy is any good, we can always do without…"

Bandit took on a hurried expression and wrapped his arm over Smoke's shoulder, pulling him closer.

In a hushed voice, Bandit exclaimed, "I will _not_ toy mein arsh-hole for you to watch again, James! I can't do it anymore, it doesn't _do_ it for me like it used to. That was sie whole point of coming here, you can't find prostitutes anywhere else!"

Smoke remained unmoved, both physically and argumentatively, "sounds like a problem for you, mate."

Bandit took a quick step away, raised his hands, then threw them down to catch the loose cloth on his jeans, "you know what? Let's just go back to sie hotel."

Smoke let his hands hang at his sides, "sure, maybe we should forgo the bedroom shenanigans tonight".

The two began their walk back. Despite walking side-by-side, they appeared very distant from each other. The pair contrasted their environment heavily. Flowers bloomed all around them in all the colors of the rainbow. The city's rivers flowed briskly, bikes trilled by, and the faint scent of marijuana wafted from the cafes. It was a remarkably beautiful spring in Amsterdam.

Smoke picked up the smell of marijuana drifting from a café's open doors, "Oi mate, you still 'ave that thing?"

Bandit paused for a moment, "hmm… Oh! Ja, I still have sie cannister."

Smoke inquired further, "What's in the cannister?"

"Oh, a little bit of cannabis, some coke, und some crack."

Smoke stayed facing forward, "That's a potent mix, you taking all that at once?"

Bandit chuckled, "nein, it is all I have left. That Ela girl bought the rest of mein supply."

"What for?"

Bandit chuckled again, "she said something about putting it in landmines," Bandit paused to let Smoke's laughter die down, "or something like that, I couldn't understand her through all the z's und w's."

"No matter," Smoke started, "as long as you save the crack for me."

"Ja, I don't touch sie stuff, not after mein undercover days."

The pair approached the hotel. It was a charming building, in true Netherlands fashion. It was painted a bold red, with the wooden support beams stained a dark brown. Flowers bloomed from the window gardens and birds chirped in the trees by the front door.

Bandit thought to himself as they entered the building, " _Ah, it is nice. Not as nice as Deutschland mind you, but still nice."_

Passing the front desk, they ascended the stairs to their room on the second floor. Making their way down the short hallway, they found their room and pushed open the door. There was the one bed, the large window giving view to one of Amsterdam's rivers, and a complementary lighter on the nightstand. Just as they had left it.

However, both seemed to notice a distinct difference. The room still smelled as they had left it, reeking of marijuana and crack cocaine, but there was a distinctly different smell.

Bandit tried to figure out what it was, thinking to himself, " _sunflower seeds, oil, dill, vodka definitely, und a hint of semen."_

Bandit barely had time to conclude his thoughts before an enormous figure burst from the wardrobe. It was a man, a burly man, a strong man, a man clad in camouflage and reeking of the soviet union.

"Tachanka?" Both of them asked at once.

Pushing himself off the ground, Tachanka slowly stood up, the barrel of his mounted LMG nearly scraping the ceiling.

"Да, its me."

He shook his head as if trying to reorient himself, "This may be a strange question, but, where are we?"

The pair broke out in laughter before Smoke spoke first, "my, my. You've been setting the local forestry ablaze, haven't you?"

Tachanka paused, impossible to read behind his helmet, "sure, why not. I'm guessing Amsterdam then?"

"Too right, mate. Where did you think you were?"

"Last I checked, I was in Riga. I had just finished my retirement party…"

Bandit cut him off, "you? Retire? It's a few years early isn't it?"

Tachanka paused again, this time longer, "I hope I don't need to ask what year it is…"

Bandit and Smoke looked at each other before exchanging a nod of agreement, "Tachanka, why don't you ride out your high mit us?"

"I'm not-" Tachanka was cut off as Bandit gripped his thigh.

Tachanka looked at the two of them, "I don't do three-ways anymore, not after that other German and that French girl."

Smoke adjusted his gas mask as he sat in a chair facing the bed, "You've got me wrong, I just like to watch."

The eyes peering from within Tachanka's helmet widened slightly, as if he were smiling within his cranial fortress. Reaching back, he took off his LMG and set it at the foot of the bed in a sign of preparation. Meanwhile, Bandit opened his cannister and took out the marijuana and the cocaine, leaving the crack inside. Closing the cannister, he tossed it to Smoke who screwed it into the filter of his gas mask. Bandit withdrew a pipe from his rectum. Packed a bowl with one hand while sprinkling the cocaine on Tachanka's erect penis with the other.

Using the hotel's lighter, Bandit lit and inhaled the entire bowl before passing the lighter to Smoke. While Smoke free-based the crack in the cannister, Bandit snorted the line of cocaine, pausing afterwards to exhale smoke like some kind of Rastafarian dragon.

"Man, I'm baked like a strudel." Bandit said through a smoke-rasped voiced.

Feeling a contact high from the overly potent cocaine, Tachanka felt energy surge through his body and into his throbbing cock. The rush of blood doubled Tachanka's usual length and girth.

Bandit held a hand up to his mouth in surprise, before gripping and slowly stroking Tachanka's love-sausage. Smoke unzipped his pants and began making some bangers-and-mash in the chair. With the strength of a fully-erect ox, Tachanka picked Bandit up and turned him around, tearing his jeans at the seam.

Bandit writhed with anticipation as he felt a gentle breeze from the open window blow across his ass cheeks. Tachanka's massive member parted Bandit's buttocks like a weisswurst in a bun. In his euphoria, Bandit began to sing the German national anthem.

Smoke wanked his willy faster as he saw Bandit get penetrated. Vapor began to drift out from behind his mask as thick smoke filled his eyes. Smoke began to talk to himself, "yeah… take that dick you slut… gape that ass."

Soon enough, Smoke couldn't contain himself. His penis erupted all over himself and his chair, spraying across his eyes in the process. Laying back, he waited for his heart rate to drop before wiping off his gas mask.

"Sure am glad I wore this mask" he said to himself.

However, Tachanka was nowhere near done on the bed. He kept at it like a jackhammer working its way through ass-phalt. A few minutes passed until Bandit broke the rhythmic ass-clapping.

"Tachanka, hurry, mein cheeks are getting tired."

The provocative speech was too much for Tachanka's cocaine-infused erection. Feeling the baby-gravy behind his prostate, he clenched his ass to hold it back.

Suddenly, the front door was kicked in. Like a cloud of crack smoke, a group of people clad in grey hoodies and white ski-masks stormed the room. By pure reflex, Tachanka withdrew his cock and aimed it at the intruders. With the first spasm, he blinded the first man. Turning 13.5 degrees to the left, he incapacitated the next man with another mighty orgasmic spasm. Turning again to correct for the wind coming through the window, he blinded the last man with his prostate's last shudder.

Tachanka slumped, grasping Bandit's waist with both hands, breathing heavily.

"Good shots," Bandit remarked, "have you done this before?"

Tachanka spoke between breaths, "once or twice in training."

"So, I wasn't just hallucinating from the crack, then?" Smoke asked.

"No, they were real." Bandit answered.

The trio remained quiet for a moment before Bandit spoke again, "idiots, they should have known they'd never catch us by surprise. Und who dressed them, Scarecrow? They look like rejects from sie Arkham games."

"Too right, mate" Smoke started, "lads, I need to tell you something."

Both men looked over at him from their positions on the bed, Smoke resumed, "My name isn't really Smoke-"

"Well no shit-" Tachanka started before Smoke cut him off.

"I'm not James either. My real identity is…" Smoke paused before taking a long breath through his gas mask, "I'm The Pyro".

Tachanka and Bandit gasped, before simultaneously asking, " _The_ Pyro?"

"I had to find a new job after Red and Blu both closed."

Bandit spoke first, "why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I didn't want to be The Pyro anymore. But these terrorist-hunt fucks made me realize it was time to be honest with you."

"You're inter-dimensional then?" Tachanka inquired.

"Ye, why?"

Tachanka's eyes widened in a possible smile, "we have _much_ to discuss."


End file.
